The Unknown Relation
by Saippuakivikauppias
Summary: AU, Sevitus. My take on the discussion between Harry and Dumbledore at the end of 1st year. Harry learns some disturbing facts, which start to turn his world upside-down. Sometimes it's a good idea to reconsider one's opinions on others...


**Disclaimer: **I own nothing you recognize, and no money is made through this story. I am writing purely for the fun of it.  
><strong>NB: <strong>AU, Smart!Observative!Harry, Dumbledore bashing, slighter Ron bashing, language, some child abuse (physical), violence, (not main) character deaths, torture.  
><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>The story begins in the Hospital Wing after Harry has faced the Quirrell-Voldemort thingy. Canon will have been followed up until that point, but the story gets AU right away. This first chapter covers quite a long period of time; from that day in June to September 2nd.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter One – Truths and Consequences<span>**

When Harry awoke after his confrontation with Quirrell-Voldemort, he found himself in the Hospital Wing. Once again.

Looking around, Harry saw Headmaster Dumbledore entering the infirmary, the older wizard's light blue eyes twinkling madly.

"Ah, it is good to see you're awake, my boy," said Dumbledore, beaming at Harry. "You will probably want to know that the Philosopher's Stone has been destroyed. Professor Quirrell has been… ah, taken care of as well."

Contrary to Dumbledore's belief, Harry was not the least bit interested in what had happened to the Stone, or Quirrell. No, he had more important things on his mind, and he intended to get answers out of the Headmaster. Harry had awoken in the middle of the night, and been unable to fall back asleep right away. He had spent that time going over Ron, Hermione and his little "adventure".

The first question that had popped into Harry's mind had seriously disturbed the young wizard. _Why had the protections of the Stone been feeble enough for three first-years to get past them? _It was almost as if the protections were designed to be a _challenge_ – a challenge for Harry, Ron and Hermione.

Hagrid had helped them get past Fluffy; he had given Harry a flute for Christmas, and accidentally blurted out the three-headed dog would fall asleep once it was played music.

Professor Sprout had covered Devil's Snare in Herbology, and she had mentioned how to defeat the plant.

Harry was a natural at flying, not to mention the youngest Seeker in a century. Professor Flitwick's flying key room had been a piece of cake.

Ron was very skilled at chess, and he had gotten the trio past the gigantic Wizard's Chess board that had been arranged by Professor McGonagall.

Hermione was excellent at anything that required logic, and she had easily solved the logic puzzle set by Professor Snape.

Quirrell, of course, had gotten past the obstacles easily enough, since he both had Voldemort on his side – literally – and possessed the knowledge of how to get past the other Professors' creations. Well, except for Fluffy. But even that had been taken care of by buying Hagrid enough alcohol to get the gamekeeper drunk, and then asking him some questions.

"What were those so-called obstacles for, sir?" Harry asked with forced politeness. If what he suspected was the truth…

Dumbledore seemed a bit taken aback by the question, but recovered in a fraction of a second. "Whatever are you asking such a question for, my boy?"

"I have been thinking," replied Harry. "And I've realized the 'obstacles' could not possibly have kept Voldemort from getting the Stone. Well, the Mirror might've stumped him, but the other protections… three _eleven_-year-old kids got past them, for Merlin's sake!"

"As was meant to happen," said Dumbledore with an even wider smile. "The whole point of bringing the Philosopher's Stone to Hogwarts was to not only lure Voldemort here, but also to let you and your friends test your limits."

Harry couldn't understand why Dumbledore had admitted that, but he did make a mental note never to completely trust the old man again. Dumbledore had _lured Voldemort to Hogwarts?_ How insane, not to mention irresponsible was that? The castle was full of children, and Voldemort wasn't exactly the kind of wizard one would want around one's children - even if he was sort of disguised as a stuttering Defence Professor.

And what was that about letting Harry, Ron and Hermione test their limits?

"What do you mean, let us test our limits?" Harry didn't bother keeping the coldness away from his tone.

"That is a topic for another day, my boy." There was finality in those words, and Harry knew it would be useless trying to get an answer to his question. There were other things he wanted to know, however.

"Did you know about Quirrell's… condition?" It was a rather bold move, accusing Dumbledore of letting the Dark Lord in the school, but one that Harry felt needed to be taken.

Dumbledore sighed. "Poor Quirinus, he never did know when to heed warnings. I told him Voldemort was more than likely lurking in that forest in Albania…"

"I'll take that as a yes. So, you allowed Voldemort to come to Hogwarts, to teach _Defence_, and hid the Philosopher's Stone in the school to lure him here," Harry recapped. "And what was the point of all that?"

"To let you see what it is like, facing Voldemort on your own."

"You risked the safety of everyone in this school, just to give me some _training_ that very nearly got me killed?" Harry could hardly believe it.

"It was for the Greater Good, my boy," said Dumbledore serenely, as if he hadn't just admitted to having jeopardized the lives of hundreds of students, plus the staff. And while the Professors were able to defend themselves, the young students were not. A _Wingardium Leviosa_ would not work on a Dark Lord who was not an idiot and did not carry a club in his hand.

Harry snorted in disgust. "Let me guess, Headmaster. Next you're going to tell me making me stay with the Dursleys, who hate me more than anything, is for the _Greater Good_."

"Staying at you relatives' house is the only way to keep you safe, Harry," said Dumbledore, finally looking a bit less serene. "The Blood Wards around the house prevent anyone with the Dark Mark, plus Voldemort of course, from even seeing Number Four."

"_Safe?_" Harry repeated, disbelief colouring his tone. "The wards may keep me safe from evil wizards, but they sure as hell don't protect me from the Dursleys!"

"They are your family; they would never fatally harm you. Going through hardships will make you that much stronger, my boy."

That was it, the famous last straw. Harry was never going to trust Dumbledore again. _And here I thought _Snape _was the bad guy... I should have been wary of the Headmaster, not the man who saved my life in that Quidditch match! I think I'll start listening to Hermione – except when she defends Dumbledore._

Harry huffed loudly, sent as withering a glare as he could at the Headmaster, and turned his back to the man. Dumbledore seemed to get the message, as Harry heard him leave the Hospital Wing.

"It's all right to be angry, Harry. I know you'll eventually realize the Greater Good is worth everything I may do for it."

o-o-o-o-o

_September 1, 1992_

Harry was beyond furious. It was ten o'clock in the morning, which meant the Hogwarts Express would be leaving in an hour.

The problem was, the Dursleys had locked Harry in his room, and even hired a man to board up the window. Hedwig's cage had been locked so heavily that Harry would have no chance of getting it open without using magic.

And if he used magic again while at his relatives', he would be expelled from Hogwarts. It was infuriating, especially since Harry had his school trunk sitting in a corner of the room. It was a miracle his school things had not been locked away. That had enabled Harry to complete his summer assignments, so at least the Professors wouldn't be mad at him for failing to write his essays. Well, Snape would probably be angry that Harry _had_ done his homework... but the Potions Master hated Harry, anyway. This year, Harry had, remembering what Quirrell had told him in front of the Mirror of Erised, decided to ignore Snape's unfairness to the best of his ability.

If Harry ever made it to Hogwarts, that was.

Ron, Fred and George Weasley had attempted to rescue Harry about a month earlier, but had failed. Even their – or rather, their father's – flying Ford Anglia had not been of much help when Harry's window wasn't even visible behind the boards. The three brothers had done their best, but had been forced to give up when the sun had begun to rise.

The reason the window was boarded up? A house-elf had decided to visit Harry the evening when Uncle Vernon had important dinner guests. The little creature had told Harry he could not return to Hogwarts, as it would be far too dangerous. When Harry had refused, the elf had ruined Aunt Petunia's masterpiece of a dessert, and promptly vanished. Harry had, naturally, been blamed for the incident. Then, an owl from the Ministry had arrived, scaring Mrs. Mason, one of the guests. Uncle Vernon had lost his deal, and had taken out his anger on Harry. To top it off, the Ministry had threatened to expel Harry from Hogwarts, because of the Hover Charm he hadn't cast in the first place. That had been when the Dursleys had found out Harry was not allowed to do magic outside Hogwarts, and Harry had lost the only weapon he had had. No longer afraid of getting turned into fruit bats, the Dursleys had not hesitated to lock Harry in the room they had so _graciously_ given him.

All in all, Harry's summer had been hellish.

And now he was going to miss the Express.

o-o-o-o-o

_Nine hours later..._

Harry was curled up on his bed, recovering from the severe beating he had just received from Vernon. Ever since the house-elf's visit, the obese Muggle had beaten his nephew on a daily basis. Sometimes, like a few minutes earlier, he even went as far as to using his heavy, leather belt that had a huge silver buckle.

Something warm trickled down the abused twelve-year-old's face. Harry knew it was blood; he could feel several bleeding cuts on his body. However, he was in no shape to clean himself – even breathing took its toll on him.

The doorbell rang.

Harry half-expected to be called downstairs to get the door, but Vernon apparently had enough sense to answer the doorbell himself. Surely he didn't want anyone to see the condition his nephew was in – some of the neighbours didn't even know the boy existed.

It sounded like the visitor, whoever it was, wanted to see Harry, however.

"There's no Harry Potter in this house!" yelled Vernon, and Harry figured the stranger was determined to meet Harry Potter. That made the visitor sound like someone form the Wizarding World, and Harry felt his heart flutter at that thought. Perhaps someone from Hogwarts had come to get him! Surely they had noticed he had not been on the train. Harry did not get up from his position, but listened as carefully as he could, hoping to find out who had so angered Uncle Vernon.

"You have no right to enter _my _house! Leave, before I call the police!"

"The police?" a voice Harry recognized but was unable to connect it to a name, asked, clearly amused. "And how do you think Muggle police would be able to stop me, Dursley?"

"You're one of _them_!" Vernon sounded completely out of control. "I DO NOT TOL – STOP WAVING THAT STICK! I'LL – "

Whoever the wizard was has obviously silenced the walrus-like man. Soon enough, Harry heard someone climbing the stairs.

"_Twelve locks?_ This has to be Potter's room..."

Five seconds later Harry heard something that sounded like several padlocks falling onto the floor.

Still curled up in a ball, Harry watched through his dark fringe as the door swung open, revealing a scowling Severus Snape.

For the first time in his life, Harry was glad to see the Potions Master. The man wouldn't make a fuss like McGonagall probably would, and most importantly, he wasn't Dumbledore. The Headmaster was the very last person Harry wanted to see right then.

"What are you – " Snape began angrily, before his obsidian eyes registered Harry's situation. "What has happened to you, Mr. Potter?"

Mustering up his remaining strength, Harry lifted his head to meet the Professor's eyes. "Uncle Vernon happened, sir."

"The overweight Muggle I Stunned downstairs?" Snape asked as he spelled the bleeding wounds closed and cast a few diagnostic spells.

"That'd be him, yeah."

"Blasted Muggles," muttered Snape, casting one more spell. "Can you stand, Mr. Potter? You are in need of a professional Healer, which I am not, and the sooner you get to the Hospital Wing, the better."

Harry seriously doubted he could get up, much less stand, but he tried anyway. To his surprise and delight, his legs did support him.

"Good. Now, grab this Portkey." The Professor held out a broken toy car. Harry had no idea what a Portkey was, but he knew better than to disobey.

As soon as his fingers touched the plastic, Harry felt a tug behind his navel. A few short whiles later he landed in the Hospital Wing, and only Snape's steadying arm kept him from falling unceremoniously on his arse.

The next thing Harry knew, he was being levitated onto one of the beds, and Madam Pomfrey was bustling about him. The Potions Master had disappeared.

o-o-o-o-o

The following morning Harry was released from the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey had demanded to know everything that went on at the Dursleys' house, and she had not seemed happy about what Harry told her.

Harry had his breakfast in bed, after which Professor McGonagall brought him his new timetable, and his book bag.

"Your books and school supplies have been taken care of," the Gryffindor Head of House said as she saw the confused look on Harry's face. "Mr. Weasley packed the bag for you. He seemed quite anxious to meet you, as did Miss Granger."

"Yeah, they would. It'll be great to – is it that late already? I've got to run! See you later, Professor McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey!" With that, Harry was out the infirmary, racing toward the dungeons. His first lesson would be double Potions, and he only had ten minutes to make it to the classroom. Why hadn't McGonagall come earlier?

As he rushed through corridors and down stairs, Harry barely managed to avoid bumping into other students who were on their way to classes.

Unfortunately, Harry did run into someone when running along a second door corridor. A blond man dressed in bright fuchsia robes rounded a corner just as Harry was passing the corridor he was coming from.

"Ah, just the student I wished to see!" said the man happily once he saw whom he had collided with. "Surely you have a few minutes to spare, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't. Sorry!" And he was off again.

In the end, Harry reached the Potions classroom just in time; the Professor was about to close the door when the Gryffindor arrived, panting after his long run.

"Decided to join us after all, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked with his trademark sneer.

"Yes, sir."

Harry headed over to his usual table, where Ron had saved him a seat.

"You all right, mate?" the redhead asked as soon as Harry had sat down. "You gave us a real scare, ending up in the Hospital Wing before term even started."

"Everything's fine," Harry replied.

"You'll tell us what happened, after class, won't you?" Ron didn't need to specify whom 'us' referred to.

"Of course." _But I'm going to gloss over the worst parts._

o-o-o-o-o

After the last class of the day, Harry took his best friends to an empty classroom, and told them the story. However, he didn't mention the daily beatings, but instead made it sound like it had only happened once. Nevertheless, both Ron and Hermione were deeply shocked by Vernon's actions. They had known Harry's home life wasn't ideal – especially after Ron and the twins had discovered the boarded-up window – but such physical abuse was far worse than either of them had imagined.

"What's Dumbledore's opinion on this?" asked Hermione. "Surely he isn't going to send you back to that house?"

Harry scowled at the mention of the old wizard. "I sure hope so. I'm not going to be their slave for another summer. Uncle Vernon finally went too far."

"And it's not like there aren't any Wizarding families more than willing to have you for a summer or two," said Ron. "I know my Mum would be thrilled if you stayed with us, Harry."

"Thanks, Ron, I really appreciate the offer – but it's only September, so there's loads of time to worry about where I'll spend the next few summers," said Harry. "In the meantime, why don't you two tell me who the new Defence teacher is? I missed the Sorting Feast, so I have no idea."

"Oh! His name's Gilderoy Lockhart," said Hermione immediately. "He's done dozens of great deeds – and written nearly all of this year's texts."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but I don't think he's really done half of what he's written about," commented Ron a bit sourly. "I bet he's just pretending to be some sort of hero."

"Ron! How can you say that?" scolded Hermione. "You're just jealous, aren't you? He's got the fame, the looks – "

"I knew it! You only like him because he's _handsome_!" Ron sounded victorious, but only until Harry asked his next question.

"Ron? Is that true?" the green-eyed Gryffindor asked quietly. "I know Hermione's pretty good at reading others' emotions – so, are you really jealous of that Lockhart guy's fame?"

"Er..." The redhead stammered for a while, before switching strategies. "What's wrong with wanting some name for myself? You know how it is for me; I never get anything new, or things that are truly mine. I'd like to step out of my brothers' shadow, to be known as more than just another Weasley!"

"Being famous has its downsides, you know. You're never going to be in everyone's good graces."

"Oh, yes, you would know all about that, wouldn't you, the oh-so-mighty Boy-Who-Lived?"

Harry felt his face harden, while Hermione looked horrified. "Yes, I would. Now, if you'll excuse me... I have an essay to write." With that, Harry left the classroom, heading toward the library. He really did have an essay to complete.

o-o-o-o-o

Late in the evening, about fifteen minutes before the curfew, Harry stepped through the entrance guarded by the Fat Lady. The Gryffindor common room was nearly empty, with only a few sixth-years sitting close to the fireplace.

As he approached the second-year boys' dorm, Harry heard the telltale snoring indicating Ron was asleep.

_Good. I really wouldn't like having to confront him today._

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><p><strong>End of Chapter Notes: <strong>It will most likely take me at _least_ a week to write and publish chapter 2, so don't expect speedy updates. My muse tends to stick around for a couple hours at a time.  
>If you decide to review this story, please <strong>do not suggest pairings<strong>_**. **_I find such messages highly annoying, especially since this story will most likely be a gen fic (no pairings whatsoever)... either that or Harmony, but not before 4th of 5th year.  
>In case you notice the huge plot hole, you should know it's <span>intentional<span>, and will be brought up later in the story. :)


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